


Scars of Silver

by Voleris



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1930s, 1940s, Angst, Blood Magic, Bullying, But there is likely going to be a enemies phase between that friends to lovers, Cause Tom is an idiot apparently, Dark Magic, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Hogwarts, I dont know if this is going to end bad, I know myself so, Jealous Tom Riddle, M/M, Murder, Possessive Tom Riddle, Protective Tom Riddle, Samhain, Sane Tom Riddle, Sassy Harry Potter, Time Travel, Tom Riddle Being an Asshole, Violence, Will add more tags as this story continues, Yuletide, this is the begining so who knows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-01-20 18:16:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21286037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voleris/pseuds/Voleris
Summary: Harry Potter is five years old when Lily and James Potter die before his eyes. He is a child when he disappeares after his parents death, without a trace.Dumbledore spreads the story of how the Potters were victims of the war, victims of Lord Voldemort.Harry Snow is six years old when he wakes up on the threshold of an orphange: cold, alone. He is six when everything hurts and nothing makes sense. He is six when he loses everything.Harry is six and he doesn't remember what he has lost.*******Harry Snow is an 11 year old orphan in 1930s. He doesn't remember who he is or where he came from.His roommate also happens to be Tom Riddle.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 38
Kudos: 258





	1. Ignis Glacies

**Author's Note:**

> (Just an FYI beforehand: I am a senior in highschool and I have a major exam (like SAT but worse so much worse save me) at the end of June 2020 so there won't be any regular updates until I pass that date. Anddd I will edit every chapter posted before that date so excuse my awful beginning chapters for now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo if you read this before fyi I changed chapter 0. The outline and the gist is the same but I wrote it again, at a humanly hour. Anyway, this is the start of a book or very likely book series. This is my first time writing a fanfiction book so be kind, please. But do not hesitate to point out any false or ridiculous thing. It would be greatly appreciated. Btw I am crazy about details so if you're planning to stick around look for clues.  
-All the love, Mare

_January 2, 1938_

Mrs Jones was a very strict person. She woke up at the same time every day, always wore her hair twisted into a tight bun and never wore ruffled clothes. Her house was always clean and her children _disciplined. _She had run the orphanage with an iron fist for thirty years now. And she didn't look like she was going away soon.

So, when Harry saw her he stood up quickly, discarding his chore for now. She was standing at the doorstep of the orphanage, pine cane in her left hand. She looked angry for some reason Harry didn't understand. "Come here this instant, boy!" 

She looked more furious by the second. Harry scrambled to get to her side. "Did you need me for something, Mrs Jones?"

Harry saw the look in her eyes and decided that; whatever it was, he would not like it.

She looked at his appearance. Her lips pursed in a disapproving manner. "Did you roll in the mud?" Her every word as sharp as a knife.

"I was just plucking some weed, as you told me to," Harry said, as politely as he can. She scowled, glancing at the lawn. "And not doing a good job about it, apparently."

"Anyway," she continued. "You need to go up to your room. A gentleman is asking for you, _god knows why_, so be quick." She turned around to go inside, her cane clicking on the floor with every step. Harry was stepping through the door when he saw her hesitate. She turned to face him again. Her gaze unsettled Harry. But her smile was so much worse. It looked like two strings were tugging on her lips to stretch them as far as they went. It did not belong to her face. "And, Harry?"

Harry tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Yes, ma'am?"

Her smile turned... something for a second. Harry took an involuntary step back. "Be on your _best_ behaviour dear." 

The 'or' wasn't said. 

Harry nodded curtly. She tilted her head once and turned around swiftly, cane knocking on the floor as she moved away. Harry slumped with relief. He went inside, turned to the left and started climbing up the stairs. The wood creaked with his every step. He fastened his pace, hoping to make less voice. 

Their room was on the highest floor. With it being the only room there it was usually quiet and peaceful. It made hearing little things easier. Like little footsteps, five or six kids climbing up the stairs at night, when Mrs Jones wouldn't say anything when she saw a few bruises in the morning. Or one person coming up, a cane clicking alongside, its wood covered with a few drops of blood. Or two kids whispering, comforting, trying to heal bruises they are not strong enough to defend against.

So when Harry finally made his way to the top floor, he knew something was wrong. He took a few steps forward, trying to understand what he was hearing. The smell of smoke got to him first. Then he heard the crackling of burning wood. 

He took a sharp breath, hands starting to shake. _Was the room burning? What should he do?_ He couldn't call Mrs Jones, she would end up blaming him. All the other workers were out because of the holidays. The other kids couldn't or wouldn't help. Maybe he could use his... thing. _No_, Harry shook his head. He couldn't control it enough.

He stood there, trying to decide what to do. Then he remembered. _Tom is in there._

Harry acted instantly, his frozen limbs unlocking and moving. Even the thought of his friend hurting was enough. He reached for the door, turning the handle and pushing it open. Expecting anything.

You can say it surprised him when all he faced was a burning closet with two people quietly watching it. “What’s going on?”

Tom noticed him first, getting up and pulling him further into the room. They sat together on his bed. Harry looked at his friend: His shoulders were tight and pulled together, he was slightly slouched and his left hand was twitching. Putting a comforting hand on his back Harry turned to the man sitting across from them. The fire was out by now. Probably distinguished by the man. How Harry didn't care right now. “Why was the closet burning, _Sir_?” 

The man turned his gaze from a silent Tom to Harry, his eyes twinkling. Harry felt his mind growing numb. His rage and concern distinguishing like the fire. _What... was he angry about before?_ He couldn't remember. Harry shrugged internally. It probably wasn't important if he forgot it. The tension left his shoulders, his posture visibly relaxing. The man smiled. “We must introduce ourselves before such questions don't you think, my boy?” 

Harry nodded slowly. _Yes, that was for the best. _He smiled back. “I’m Harry, sir. Harry Snow.” 

“And I am Albus Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore for you if your friend is right.” The man, Professor Dumbledore apparently, said. Harry didn't understand the meaning of it. “If my friend is… right?” 

The man looked at him with joy. “Yes Harry, you see, I'm not from a normal school.” 

“[This](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/bc/1c/53/bc1c53cfef58758ecb8f70fb2d68d8ff.jpg),” he said lifting his hand “is what we do.” Then a little flame appeared on his hand. 

It was… _blue_. It was a bright, dark blue and, Harry couldn't take his eyes off of it. The flames licked the man’s palm but didn't appear to hurt or damage. He could feel the heat coming from it. _It looks like fabric_, He thought,_ like fabric in the ocean_. Moving with no restraint, curling and snapping and reaching. 

“What is that, sir?” Harry breathed. He was still gazing at the fire, dazed. Dumbledore smiled, flicking his wrist and extinguishing the flame. With the fire gone Harry looked up at him. Waiting for an answer. 

“It's magic, my boy,” he said. Looking at the two boys in front of him, he smiled a warm smile. The slight edge to it passing unnoticed. 

"And you both have it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Added at 18.11.19) I edited it a bit after two weeks, İ will edit the other chapters as I go cause I have a tendency to write them when it's 2 am and it usually feels rushed when I read it in the morning. Anyway, welcome to this series!  
-All The Love, Mare


	2. Volitantem de Alis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom fails math apparently

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited (19.11.19)

Harry was exhausted. He had done chores all day, struggling to satisfy Mrs Jones. It had given it's reward, sure; she had allowed him to go to the little park, across from the orphanage. Harry was doubting it's worth though while lying in the shadow of a tree aching everywhere. 

He could feel little sticks poking his back, a few leaves had landed on his shirt earlier and he was pretty sure there were at least two bugs on his leg. Nothing could make him move right now.

_Maybe if earth catches fire_, he thought, _maybe not_. He couldn't tell.

Harry let out a slow breath, lifting his arm. He extended his hand to the sky. The sun slipped between his fingers, casting an orange light. A leave fell in his hand.

Harry sat up, leaning against the tree. He slowly twirled the leave in his hand. _Why it had not come yet?_

Harry frowned. He was tired of blocking the thoughts. He was tired of the doubt creeping up his lungs. It was clutching to his chest, squeezing his ribcage. He was tired of the whispers, the hisses, filling his mind at night. _You are not good enough._

He couldn't help but check if he still had his thing, his magic as that professor had said.

Harry closed his eyes; concentrating, pushing. When he opened his eyes, the leave was burning. He dropped it fast. Maybe the problem was his lack of control.

He turned around when leaves crunched under footsteps. Someone sat beside him. "What did the leave do to you?"

Harry smiled. "Took you long enough, Tom."

Tom smiled, it didn't fir on an eleven-year-olds face with how predatory it was. "I had a big chore to do. And you know how Mrs Jones... acts. After what we did."

He shrugged, leaning on Harry's shoulder. "Maybe you mixed her mind too much."

"You knew I wouldn't be able to control it," Harry said. "She deserved it anyway."

They sat there for a while, watching as the sun descended over the horizon. The sky grew darker, leaving only the streetlights to illuminate the boys.

Tom was watching the sky, Harry slightly dozing off when Tom tensed. He sat up straighter, looking carefully at the almost black sky. "Tom, what-?"

"I saw something," Tom whispered, searching. They first heard the flutter of wings coming closer. Harry felt a weight on his shoulder a second later. His breath caught in his throat. "An owl."

They exchanged a glance. _Could it be?_

Harry slowly scratched the owl's wing. Soft brown feathers caressed his fingertips. "Do you have something for me?"

The owl hooted, lifting it's left leg. Harry noticed the attached paper. The only problem was, it was the size of his finger.

"Are you sure this is the right one?" he asked. The owl stared at him. Then, pecked his ear harshly. _It hurt. _"Okay, sorry!"

Harry watched as the owl took off, landing on Tom's shoulder this time. "I think you offended it."

"I didn't mean to," Harry whined. "I still need that paper."

Tom turned, glancing at the owl. He slowly reached for the paper; facing no protest, he untied the surrounding knot. The paper fell into his hand, rapidly expanding three times it's size. Right, _magic. _

"It is a letter," Tom said. "For you."

Harry took it from his hand. The paper was heavy with curved writing on the back. He drew a deep breath and cracked the seal.

'Mr Snow

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'_

He almost cried with relief. Sure, he knew they would take him too. He was a wizard. But... still. He finally took a deep breath after five months, almost seeing the doubt slip away. 

"I said so," Tom whispered, owl long gone from his shoulder. "You are as good as me, even better at some things."

Tom pulled the letter from Harry's hands, reading it himself. "It would be foolish of them to not accept you."

If it was a few months earlier, Harry wouldn't be able to recognise it. But now, he did. He saw the tension missing from his friend's shoulders, his hair ruffled from running his hands through it. He saw the twitch to his hands lessening, his posture relaxing. He saw the _'What if?'_ flying away from Tom's thoughts. 

He had been stressed, scared even, Harry realised. _He had been scared for me._

Harry grabbed Tom's arm, dragging him into a hug. He felt Tom tensing, forcing himself to not push Harry away. Harry relaxed his arms, creating an opening. Tom could pull away if he wanted to. "It's just me, Tom."

He heard Tom exhaling a shaky breath. Arms wrapped around him a second later.

"We are going to Hogwarts," Tom whispered. "Together." Harry nodded. He felt excitement. They both turned, looking at the old orphanage. Mrs Jones could be seen from one of the ratty windows, yelling. Their room's curtains swayed in the wind, coming out from a hole in the glass. A few kids were cleaning the lawn, looking tired. 

"We can finally escape from this place." 

<strike>\--------------------------------------------------</strike>

"Mrs Jones, please!" Harry whined once again. They needed to go to the Leaky Cauldron. "We just need a few dollars for the bus."

"For the hundredth time Harry, No!" he woman screeched. She certainly was stubborn when it came to money. He needed Tom. _Wasn't he already done with his work?_

"But Mrs Jon-!" Harry chased after her. She halted and spun around, leaning down. Her finger poked Harry'S shoulder harshly. "Say please one. More. Time, Harry."

_Well_, Harry did like his bones connected and in one piece. So he smiled politely and fled from her sight. He climbed the stairs two at a time and barged into their room. Startling Tom. Who was on the bed, reading. Harry frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be cleaning?"

"Yes?" Harry rolled his eyes. He would get whacked on the head for the same thing. "I spoke to Mrs Jones, she said no."

Harry crossed his arms, sitting on the bed. "As I said so _earlier_ that she will."

Tom laughed, closing his book. "I don't understand why she's nicer to me when you're the one who meddled with her head." 

Harry huffed and threw a pillow at Tom." It hit him right across the chest. "You know that I don't know why. Now, can you please..?"

"Fine." Tom stood. They had the money necessary and twenty dollars extra in two minutes.

<strike>\--------------------------------------------------</strike>

The man with a toad on his shoulder tapped some random bricks, the wall opening a second later. They watched in awe as the wall folded into itself, revealing an alley. "Here you go, boys."

Tom and Harry thanked the man and watched as he went back into the pub. Tom turned to Harry, barely containing his expression. "Shall we?"

Harry smiled and replied mockingly. "We shall."

Tom went through first, Harry following closely. The wall closed behind their back. They sauntered into the alley, don't knowing where to look first. There were bright colours, peculiar things and unusual clothes everywhere. Harry watched in confusion as a woman passed by with a _crow_ on her hat. 

Tom grabbed Harry's arm and pointed. "Look!" They watched, amazed, as a man hovered two meters above the ground. He was sitting on a broom, talking about something called cleansweep 7. 

They wandered for a while. Stopping to watch if they saw something particularly interesting. Tom halted when he saw a sign, stopping Harry with him. "Isn't that store on the list?"

They had written a small list for where they had to go. It wasn't very long. But their budget - 100 galleons provided by Hogwarts' Scholarship- was limited anyway. 

Harry pulled out the little paper, confirming Tom. They went into the store. The smell of old parchment and ink greeted them. Tom decided he liked the place.

After greeting a lady at the counter and asking for the first year books, she directed them at a certain part of the store. It didn't take long to collect all of them. "Harry, can you pay for these? I'm going to look at the other books."

Harry nodded, grabbing Tom's books too. He went to the counter. The lady smiled at him, taking the books from his arms. "Your friend is a budding Ravenclaw then."

He smiled, glancing at Tom. He was busy reading the spines, pulling out a book once in a while. "Maybe."

"This will be 26 galleons dear," the lady said. "You can pay after your friend picks more books."

Harry thanked her, stuffing the books to his pack. It was going to be heavy by the looks of it. Tom came to their side carrying three books. Harry glanced at the titles: "The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection", "Magical History: Detailed" and "The Book of Magical Etiquette and Customs".

The lady read the titles, handing them back after. "Your total is thirty-six galleons." 

Harry cast a quick look at Tom, hoping he did the math right. He handed the money over.

They left the store, bags filled with thick books. Next was cauldron and scales. That left them another thirty-six galleons lighter.

Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment was next. It cost them another eighteen galleons. "Okay, what's left?"

Tom checked his mental list. "Wands, I think."

Harry nodded. That was seven galleons each. He stuck his hand in his pocket, trying to assure himself that they had enough as he dug for the coins. They didn't "_Tom_."

Tom turned to Harry, startled by his expression he frowned. "What's wrong?"

Harry clenched his teeth, trying to stay calm. "We don't have enough money left."

They stood there for a while, debating what to do. Tom had spent four galleons too much. "Maybe there's somewhere cheaper?"

Harry remembered an alley he saw earlier. It had been dark and probably risky for two kids. But he knew that darker meant cheaper. And they needed those wands. "I saw an alley."

They headed back, passing by a few stores. Harry felt the change in atmosphere as soon as they entered the alley. Shadows grew longer, buildings getting older. They were fewer people, all rushing with their heads down. Harry wished, hard, not to be killed today. 

He glanced at Tom, finding him tense too. They walked further down. After a few minutes, they came across a store with a wand painted on the door.

"Should we go in?" Harry muttered. Tom looked uncertain. Harry felt uncertain too. 

Then, the door banged open; revealing a man with white hair and violet covered eyes. He looked unfocused. "Looking for a wand?"

Harry wished once more to not be killed today. It felt necessary to do so. "Yes, sir."

The man looked them over. Stopping on Harry. Harry saw him looking at his scar. It looked like a lightning bolt across his forehead, reaching the corner of his eye from his hairline. It was hard to miss. The man's eyes flashed with recognition. He turned on his heel and went inside, leaving the door open. "Come in, come in. I will see what I can do."

Harry glanced at Tom, leaving the decision to him. Tom stared after the man. _They __needed those wands._ "It seems like a bad decision."

But he sighed, going after the man anyway. The door closed after them, the sound of the lock closing echoed in the room. This was a bad decision.

<strike>\--------------------------------------------------</strike>

"I have been wondering when you would come," the man said, chuckling. "It took you a while."

Harry and Tom stared after him, confused. The man didn't seem to be bothered by their silence, scanning the shelves. "Names?"

"Harry Snow," he muttered, seeing no harm in sharing it. His name didn't hold any weight to it.

"Tom Riddle," Tom said from beside him too. The man smiled, a bit too big and a bit too crooked. His eyes twinkled like he knew something they didn't. "I see..."

He grabbed a box, shoving it into Tom's hand. Tom startled, opened the box. Harry watched as he exhaled a shaky breath. He picked up the wand, giving the now empty box back to the man.

"It's beautiful," Tom whispered. He watched as the wand hummed in his palm. He could feel it's magic extending, searching and settling inside his veins. The wand was light coloured, fitting right into his hand. Harry had never seen Tom this satisfied.

"That, Mr Riddle," the man said in a barely contained joy." Is a very extraordinary wand."

Tom looked at the man, silently asking for an explanation.

"It is made of Cypress wood with a core from a phoenix. The wood is known to only match with a witch or wizard who would die a heroic death."

"But the phoenix core represents 'born from the ashes' or 'rebirth'."

He smiled that smile again with the look in his eyes. "Death and life, Mr Riddle. I expect that you will achieve great things."

Tom nodded slightly, twirling the wand in his hand. Harry knew he had liked it.

The man turned around abruptly, searching through shelves again. "And, Mr Snow." He grabbed one, extending it towards Harry. "I believe this is yours."

Harry took it from the man's hand. He lifted the top of the box and took the wand within. His fingertips ran over the smooth, dark brown surface. He felt it's magic slip into his palm, flowing fast like a current. Harry felt a sting of pain when it reached his chest. The pain grew sharper as the seconds passed. Harry tried hard not to throw the wand away, pressing his free hand where it hurt. Tom was by his side in a second. "What's going on?"

The man rubbed his chin calmly, looking like he had seen a new piece of an incomplete puzzle. "How... unusual. Your magic core will get used to it. Just breath."

Harry inhaled, feeling the flow of magic lessening and settling with every breath. He straightened his back and looked at the wand in his hand. 

"It's Walnut wood, Mr Snow. With a dragon heartstring core, it makes a powerful wand." The man looked far saner now. "If the user is of sufficient brilliance, the wand will do anything they desire. It can cast an overly complicated healing spell as well as a vicious dark curse. It is the essence of a truly lethal weapon."

Harry nodded, grabbing the wand tight. The carvings pressed against his skin. "Thank you, sir."

They collected their bags, putting the wands away.

“How much the payment will be?” Harry asked.

He smiled, turning to put away the empty boxes. “I don’t need payment from you.”

The man lifted his head, looking straight into Harry’s eyes. Harry felt a shiver go up his spine. “Just whatever you accomplish make sure it’s public enough. I’m curious about you.”

Harry nodded, thanking the man again. They turned to leave. Just then, Harry remembered. “Sir, excuse me but I didn’t catch your name.”

His eyes narrowed, lips curving in almost pride. “Its Cygnus. Cygnus Lovegood.”

“I hope we meet again, sir.” Harry wanted to see more of this half crazy, half genius man.

“Maybe not in this life, Harry.” He said. “But we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Cygnus a seer, I neither regret it nor know why I did it lol. (I know why I did it after a week lol) Please leave a comment about what you thought, it will be useful. BTW the next chapter likely will be out under a week.  
\- All The Love, Mare


	3. Vetus Domum de Anguis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Tom go to Hogwarts and meet a few people along the way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry for the wait! I just underestimated my procrastinating abilities combining with perfectionism soo it took me a while to get everything done.  
Buuut at the end I straightened my plot and all the characters and the character arcs has been decided yeyy  
I learned that setting a time for posting does not encourage me to write more or sooner so the updates will be irregular (it wasn't organized in the first place but lets just ignore that)  
This chapter is technically not new but I changed a lot of details and added or removed a lot of scenes so keep reading even if you recognize the beginning from before  
Annnnd I'd like to thank @sour_grape_snape sooo much for her help  
Enjoy the chapter  
-All The Love, Mare

“Tom!” 

Harry called out, a few people glancing at him as he passed by. “Wait for me!”

He ducked, nearly missing a suitcase to the head. He was going to kill Tom.

But he had to catch up to him first.

Harry turned a corner, almost colliding into Tom. “You’re slow.”

“You have longer legs.”

“That’s no excuse,” Tom smirked _down _to Harry. He had learned how to tower over him with a few centimetres or fifteen. 

In the end, no one could blame Harry for punching his arm. “Can’t you slow down a bit?”

Harry sighed while they started walking again. 

“No,” Tom said. He slowed his pace to match Harry’s anyway. “It’s almost eleven.”

Harry’s smile fell. The air around them dimmed. He had forgotten that during the rush of getting to King’s Cross.

They didn’t know how to get to platform 9 3/4. 

The wizards had most certainly hidden it somewhere. But how were they, two muggleborn students, supposed to find it? Harry hoped they could. He was tired of watching Tom get more twitchy and tense as time passed. 

“It’s likely somewhere between platform 9 and 10.”

“I know. It’s just-.” He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. His hand dropped to his side in defeat. “Okay.”

They sat close to the platforms and waited. Harry knew he was worried about what would happen if they couldn’t find the train. 

Would they expel them? How would they be able to study magic when they couldn’t even find the platform for a simple express?

People passed by them. Minutes ticked by, carrying the weight of hours. The boys waited: for something, anything.

It was ten minutes left to eleven when Harry saw it.

“Tom, look.” He tilted his head towards a family. “I think one of them disappeared.”

Tom turned, glancing at the small family. They were quietly chatting, leaning against a plain wall.

And then, _there._

Tom watched as a girl leaning against the wall shifted to her left, slipping out of sight. Harry let out a breath.

“We can go after them.”

They waited for a few minutes anxiously as the family passed through one by one. When the last person went through, Tom grabbed Harry. “Let’s go.”

First, Harry leaned on the wall. He shifted his weight on to it, feeling it give in a second later. He slipped through.

The noises immediately filled his ears. Laughter, chatter and hurried footsteps as the parents rushed their children, who were spread wildly across the platform, into the train. Harry watched as a few kids ran by him. Too young to go to school but old enough to farewell their brothers or sisters. There were owls in cages, cats on their owner’s shoulders, little frogs or mice in little children’s hands.

It felt warm, welcoming.

But Harry couldn’t shake the feeling of mismatch. 

Tom stepped beside him. He took one look at the crowd and sighed, grabbing Harry’s hand. “I’m not going to bother looking for you if I lose you.”

They moved before Harry could answer. Tom created a path for them easily: turning, ducking and pushing people lightly when necessary. He led them to the train.

It took five minutes to find an empty compartment. And when they did, Harry threw himself on the seat. It had taken a long time to get here from the orphanage and it was even longer to get to Hogwarts.

He was planning to sleep through it.

Tom was planning to read through it, looking at the book he had pulled out. Harry could swear it was the size of his head.

“Not a word.” 

Harry laughed, mimicking zipping his lips. It was funny how Tom would get touchy about how many books he read in a day. He didn’t believe that Harry actually envied it.

“Hey, can I sit with you?”

Harry lifted his head. A boy their age stood by the door. He looked smaller than his age with his soft brown hair and matching eyes. 

They shared a look. Tom shrugged, Harry smiled. “Sure, why not?”

The boy smiled back, hesitant and sat next to Tom. “I’m Dorion, by the way, Dorion Nott.”

“Harry Snow.”

“And the boy with the book stitched to his nose is Tom Riddle.” Tom glared without lifting his head but turned and greeted Dorion. 

Dorion smiled in understanding and pulled out a book of his own. Harry’s hopes of fun flew out of the window with that.

They sat quietly for a while. Harry dozed off, only to wake up a moment later with the feel of another person’s presence in the compartment. His body refused to shut off. But he couldn’t tell Dorion to go away just to sleep. So he just propped his head against the window and watched the scenery as it floated by.

It had been at least a few hours when the door flung open, startling Harry.

He flinched violently. His breathing fastening and his muscles tensing. Tom’s hand on his arm was the only thing grounding him. Harry took a deep breath and pushed the immediate panic down. It was just a boy their age, standing at the corridor.

“Making friends with mudbloods, Nott?” the boy smirked, leaning against the door frame. “What would Lord Nott say?” 

Harry felt something rising inside of him: hot and feral. And unfamiliar. He snarled. “What the- Harry, calm down.” 

Tom was standing now, pushing him back to his seat. His grip was tight but Harry couldn’t ignore the voice in his head. _Won’t you fight back once in your life? Pathetic._

_“Harry, _Harry.” Tom looked concerned. “This is not your fight.”

The boy turned towards them. He looked at them with distaste, like they were dirt on his shoes. Harry felt his chest burn.

Inhale. Exhale.

_This is not your fight._

He saw Dorion glancing at him. The boy looked calm, cold. Like he wasn’t gripping his book with whitened knuckles. “Bored with your little vassals already, Mulciber? Or were they not old enough for Hogwarts yet?”

Mulciber tensed, his smirk sharpened. It took a second for him to recover. He waved his hand towards Tom and Harry. “Better than associating with their kind.”

Harry flexed his hands. _This is not my fight. _Dorion handled it well anyway. He sighed and waved his hand dismissively. He looked bored. “Would you be so kind and leave Mulciber?”

“Why would I leave when I’m having so much fun, with my _friend?_”

“Then I assume you wouldn’t mind if another friend of ours joined us.” Dorion smiled. Mulciber _paled._ “Maybe Lilith is near. Should I call her?”

Mulciber took a step back, eyes big and frantic. 

Dorion stood. He looked amused by Mulciber’s behaviour. “She would _love_ to meet you again.” 

Mulciber had bolted by the time Dorion reached the threshold. He closed the door and sat back down. “I’m sorry for his antics. He’s just, problematic and spoiled.”

Harry nodded. “Not your fault. I don’t know why I reacted like that anyway.”

Tom looked at him again, sitting back only when he made sure that he was back to normal. “Who’s Lilith?”

Nott shrugged. “Lilith Zabini, the heir of a sacred eight family, is the most charming and scariest person I have met. Her twin brother is as bad as her.” He glanced towards where Mulciber was a moment ago. “She broke his arm, with a curse I think. Nobody could prove it was her of course.” 

He looked up towards them. “But she did tell me it was intended to break more than just an arm.”

**********

Harry stared down at the water, as black as ink. Their boat rocked once in a while, swaying too close to the surface for comfort. 

He glanced towards Tom, sitting across from him. He was chatting with Dorion, relaxed. His shoulders were dropped, hands clasped in his lap. But Harry didn’t miss the way his hands stiffened, and a grimace washed over his face whenever the boat shook.

Harry knew that day still hunted Tom every night, creeping into his nightmares and making him shiver even in the summer heat with memories that froze. 

“So you lived in London.” The boy next to Harry said. Harry turned back to him. The boy continued. “It must have been fun with all the rush and people.” 

Harry nodded, letting the boy ramble on. They had met right when they were trying to settle into the boats. He had introduced himself as Alec Drakos and had jumped into a conversation with the person closest to him. It had been Harry.

“- I live, lived, in Cyprus. It’s kinda shaky there right now, so it was relieving for my parents when the letter came-.”

Harry was going to focus on the boy -because the boy was fun, talking rapidly and switching topics in a heartbeat and Harry didn’t want to be rude- when they rounded an island and the castle came into view.

It was breathtaking.

Harry watched, dazed, as the castle became bigger by the second. It was huge: with towers, passageways and a forest with tall, thin trees. The windows were glowing with golden lights, painting the lake with flickers. And, Harry could almost feel the surrounding air.

He took a long breath, taking in the strong and ancient magic coming from it. He could almost feel it against his skin, assessing.

He could feel the way it washed over them, all of them. It’s like the magic was accepting them as its own. 

“Merlin,” Nott breathed. “My father had told me about this place but… it’s different when you see it.”

Harry felt at home.

**********

“Wait here, the sorting will begin in a moment.” The Professor sent them a stern look and left the room, closing the door behind her.

First years halted for a moment, looking around. It took only a few seconds until everyone found their friends and started chatting loudly.

Theories about the sorting and conversations about how the classes they’d take would be filled the room in seconds. Harry turned towards Nott, curious about the sorting. “Nott, do you know how they do it?”

He shrugged. “My father wouldn’t say much about it, apparently it includes a hat and a test.”

“A test?” Tom frowned. “They didn’t say anything about a test.”

Harry knew he had nothing to worry about: Tom had memorised the books in a month.

Beside him, Alec opened his mouth only to be interrupted by the sudden arrival of multiple people. Soaring through the ceiling. With one of them carrying their head.

_Ghosts._

Harry grabbed Tom’s arm and tried not to jump out of his skin. At least he hadn’t screamed, like the good half of the first years had.

He had watched a movie with ghosts before; it had been hard to sneak away from the orphanage and find enough money to go to a movie theatre. It was surprising how muggles got this one right. The ghosts looked just like the movies he had seen them in. And they were funny when everyone got past the first shock. But they didn’t stay for long.

The ghosts greeted them, laughing and answering a few questions. They hinted at the sorting and floated away through the closed door. 

The professor came back in the room right as they left. “Form a line, please!”

First years scrambled into a semi-proper line. She nodded when everyone grew quiet and opened the door. They walked in.

Harry noticed the ceiling first; opening to the sky, littered by candles. He glanced towards the hall, Slytherins by the wall, next to them was Ravenclaws then Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. 

First years gathered by the long table, waiting for the sorting to start. 

They hadn’t predicted the hat would sing a song before that.

The hat was old, with damaged edges and a faded out colouring. But it still sang to all the students with its booming voice from the top of a stool. When the song about the houses ended, everyone clapped. 

Only silenced when the professor pulled out a scroll and cleared her throat.

“Abbott, Isabell!”

A girl with flowing auburn hair walked up to the stool and placed the hat on her head. 

“Ravenclaw!”

The blue table clapped as she took her seat.

“Avery, Niles,” went to Hufflepuff: a shy little girl with scraped elbows and braids. 

Andrea Carrow was the first Slytherin from her year, followed by Antonin Dolohov going to Ravenclaw.

Alec went to Hufflepuff after a few minutes, the hat taking a little longer to decide. He smirked to Harry as he passed by, walking to the yellow and black table.

“Fuchs, Ursula.” The girl tensed when the professor called her name. She walked towards the stool with tight shoulders and quick steps, almost yanking the hat over her head with hurry.

It took five minutes. “Slytherin.”

The green table clapped, joined by a few ravens and badgers. Fuchs sat next to Carrow, her arms wrapped around herself.

A few Gryffindors got sorted after her. Lions cheered loudly for their new housemates.

Eva Kaiser went to Ravenclaw, Coeus Lestrange went to Slytherin: both with satisfied smirks adorning their faces. 

“Lovegood, Aura.” The girl walked front. Her white hair almost floating as she moved. Harry could feel her magic flow towards him. It glowed a soft blue.

Her magic felt... weird, old. Almost as old as the castle’s even. 

“Ravenclaw!” Harry watched as she joined the blue table with a soft smile. He wouldn’t question her magic for now.

Mulciber got sorted to Slytherin after her, followed by Nott. 

“Riddle, Tom.” Tom took a deep breath and visibly forced himself to relax. Harry watched as the hat dropped over his eyes. He already knew what colour his friend will wear. 

“Slytherin!”

Tom walked towards his house, looking pleased.

Druella Rosier went to Hufflepuff. Harry tried to take a deep breath as the last person in front of him got sorted. He clasped his shaking hands together, desperately trying to stop the tremors running through his body. His chest felt tight. “Snow, Harry.”

Harry stepped forward. He could feel the eyes on him: looking at him, judging him. 

At that moment, he hated how the secondhand robes didn’t fit his frame and his cracked glasses couldn’t hide his face enough. He couldn’t feel the castle’s magic comforting him, accepting him. He felt like he didn’t belong.

But he wasn’t going to crack under pressure, anymore. So he straightened his back, pushed the boiling panic down and walked to the stool. When he put the hat on it dropped low, covering his sight. **_Now, what do we have here? _**

_Not much_, Harry thought. He was nothing special. **_Not much, eh? I can see a lot you know._**

Harry frowned, confused. He did have a few tricks here and there. And there was _that_ day. But he still lacked control or power. The only thing he had was a friend and an ache whenever he touched his wand. **_You’re wrong, child._**

** _You have a great mind, has a lot of potential and-. Wait._ **

The hat halted, Harry felt it slipping deeper in his mind. **_I see_**.

** _I’m curious about what you can and will become Harry._ **

_What?_

**_I know where to put you. Just remember: nothing is unbreakable, even when everyone says so. And, doing a good thing doesn’t always mean doing the right thing. _**The hat stopped, Harry could feel it thinking, considering.

** _Your magic: be careful with it._ **

The hat pulled back from his mind. Whispering a goodbye as it left.

“Slytherin!”

Harry placed the hat on the stool. He was confused by what it had said. His magic was weak, uncontrollable. It lashed out when he tried to use it so he was already careful with it. But, breaking? Good and right things? 

He had no idea.

Harry shushed his thoughts and walked towards the Slytherin table. His new house, his new home. 

“Glad to have you both with us.” Dorion smiled from across the table. Harry smiled back.

“Well, having three _muggleborns_ in our house is definitely going to be fun,” Mulciber said. Harry felt that voice stirring inside his mind again. He wanted to argue, to fight. But it was easier to ignore it when the castle’s magic floated in the air. He ignored the little whispers and turned back to the sorting.

Hestia Thorn, another muggleborn, got sorted into Gryffindor. Septimus Weasley followed her to the lions.

“Zabini, Lilith.” 

Harry watched from the corner of his eye as Mulciber paled where he sat. He couldn’t blame him. She looked... intimidating, to say the least. She got sorted in with the snakes.

Matheo Zabini, looking almost exactly like his sister with his dark skin and black hair, followed her to their house as the sorting came to an end.

They sat next to Dorion. Harry saw Mulciber lose a few more shades of colour. It was amusing to see the boy drop his arrogance like this. Lilith didn’t even spare him a glance.

She greeted Dorion, nodded at Carrow and Lestrange then turned towards Harry and Tom. “Who are they, Dorion?”

Tom tensed, his hands forming a fist below the table. Harry knew he hated being treated like this. But he wasn’t going to fight on an unknown ground with very likely the most powerful person among them. Especially after reading that book about pureblood ethics. What she was initiating was protocol after all. 

So he waited as Dorion introduced them. “That’s Tom Riddle.”

Zabini narrowed her eyes, Tom could see her looking at something around him. He pushed the urge to turn around and look. She turned back to Dorion. “And?”

Dorion continued, gesturing towards Harry. “Harry Snow.”

She glanced at him just as a man stepped onto a platform. Harry missed the confusion and interest in her eyes. He turned towards the man too. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts.”

All the students clapped. Harry could see upper years grimacing at what was coming. They were familiar with the bland speech the Headmaster gave every year without fail. 

“While this is new beginnings for some, it’s going to be- “ Harry tuned it out. 

“Is he always like this.” Tom turned away from the man. Everyone who had been warned by siblings or friends hadn’t even tried to pay attention. 

“Boring, weak, but gets the job done,” Carrow said. “At least my sister said so.”

“Disaster of a Headmaster if you ask me,” Lestrange replied. He shrugged when everyone looked at him. 

“I did hear he ignores whatever you do as long as your blood is _unstained_,” Mulciber added, looking towards Harry and Tom.

They both ignored him, it was not worth responding to. But it was unexpected when Zabini did.

She straightened her back even more and turned slightly towards Mulciber. “He wouldn’t have to ignore what you did or do as long as you manage to act like an heir or at least a snake.”

She tapped her fingers against the wooden surface of the table. It echoed even when the great hall was filled with voices. “Do I need to remind you how to be one _Anthony_? How we settled this was awfully plain last time, I’m sure I can be more _creative_ now that I have my wand.”

Mulciber didn’t open his mouth for the rest of the evening.

**********

“First years,” someone called firmly. “Come with us, please.”

They found a pair of Slytherins when they looked up. A boy and a girl smiled down at them, waiting patiently. They both had a silver badge with a P in the middle. Prefects.

The first years shuffled out of their seats quickly and followed the Prefects out of the great hall.

Harry walked slower to fall behind, not being able to shake the feeling of unease when turning his back to anyone. 

Tom casually slowed his pace, joining Harry at the back. It was routine, a habit for them. But this time Dorion joined them too. 

Harry could feel Zabini’s eyes on them as she assessed and reorganized her thoughts. She turned away before he could catch her gaze.

The Prefects introduced themselves as Edith Flint and Torquil Travers: fifth-year prefects. Harry tried to pay attention as they talked about the classes and the professors while trying to memorise the turns they took but it was getting harder and harder to remember as they slid deeper into the dungeons. 

They came to a halt after walking for what seemed like twenty minutes. The Prefects stood before a portrait. “Okay, first years pay attention!” Flint said cheerfully. “This is a portrait of our founder: Salazar Slytherin. He wouldn’t waste his time talking to you so don’t even try.”

She took a step away from the Portrait and pulled out her wand. A little light appeared at the ceiling, making it easier to see. 

Harry noticed the silver edges of the portrait and the man within it. He looked young, mid-thirties, with his blond hair and red eyes. He had a snake wrapped around his shoulders and a locket around his neck. 

He was looking at him.

“So, this is our entrance.” Flint pointed at the portrait. “And you need to figure out how to get in or sleep outside today.”

Harry blinked, the man was looking towards his snake. 

“How are we supposed to guess the password, doesn’t it work like that?” Carrow was arguing with the prefects. Flint smirked. “At least try before you speak, Andrea.”

Carrow scowled, pulling out her wand. She pointed it towards the portrait. “_Aparecium_.”

First years held their breaths. Nothing happened. Carrow huffed and put her wand in her pocket. Flint smiled at her. “Not bad, Andrea. Anyone else?”

Zabini stepped forward. She flicked her wand and whispered. “_Specialis Revelio._“

This time the portrait started to glow a faint green. Zabini scowled and turned to look at the prefects. “There is no spell placed here, except for the portrait runes.”

Flint shrugged. 

“Edith, enough.” Travers smiled slowly. “Zabini got close enough, just show them.”

Flint groaned and hexed Travers with a flash of red light and a murmured incantation. “That’s for ruining my fun.”

Travers only laughed fondly, rubbing a spot on his arm.

“Anyway, sorry.” She tucked a strand of her hair away. “Confusing the first years is kind of tradition. We struggled for twenty minutes in our first year.”

“Entrance is actually here.” She walked towards a dark patch of a wall, it was darker than its surroundings almost like it was covered with a black mist. “_Lumos_.”

The steady light from her wand illuminated the wall. Harry didn’t notice it at first, his old glasses not helping much.

The spark of green was the only thing that caught the eye. He saw the gemstone in the wall. After that, it was easy to follow the carving with his eye.

It was a long, black snake. Spreading through the wall and drawing a long line.

“Other houses will assume that our entrance is behind the portrait. They do not, _and will not_, know about this one. It is forbidden to tell or show anyone. Understood?” Flint continued after getting a nod from everyone.

“To get in: you need to press on the eye,” the carving of the snake spread and covered the wall as she tapped the stone. “And say the password: Salazar.”

The carving popped out with a click. Flint grabbed the head of the snake and pulled, light leaking into the dungeons. “Welcome to the Slytherin Common-room.” 

**********

The prefects stood before the first years, patiently waiting for them to settle. “I know you’re tired and don’t want to listen to upperclassmen giving lectures so we’ll keep this short,” Flint said without missing a beat. “Again, welcome to Slytherin.”

“This house and the people living within it will become your family for the next seven years.” Travers spread his arms, gesturing to the whole room and the other Slytherin’s scattered in it. “You will learn to love it, hate it, protect it and _be_ it.”

It was cheesy; it was. But Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that coursed through him. The want, the need to belong somewhere; to be a part of something. And when he looked around, everyone looked as solemn as eleven-year-olds could. 

“But first,” Flint cut in, “the boring part.”

First years, along with a few older Slytherins listening, chuckled. The tension dissolved remarkably, leaving a much more laid back air in its place.

“For starters: our Head of House is Professor Slughorn, the potions master, but he usually leaves everything to us prefects.” Flint shifted her stance into a more relaxed, open one. “Only thing he expects of us is _proper_ grades. So: study, listen to the professors and do your homework.”

“And, if you’re having trouble with any subject, come to us. Don’t wait until you enter the exams and come back with a P. There will be consequences.”

Travers laughed quietly at the comically large-eyed first years and whispered. “Detention.”

Flint sent him a frustrated but amused look. “Other than that: don’t cause trouble, for short.”

The first years nodded. But everyone wanted to ask the same thing: That’s it?

Travers stepped forward. Harry noticed a glint in his gaze. He was starting to think the prefect was _sharper_ than he seemed. “Now, the fun part.”

“Rules of Slytherin are simple, even straightforward. You will follow them as a viper and bear the consequences as one if you break them.” Travers flicked his wand, Harry hadn’t noticed him pulling it out, and a list appeared beside him. “Rule one: Slytherin protects its own. Whatever disagreements you may have, keep them within the dungeons. Never even insult another Slytherin where another house can see.”

“You will notice that other houses don’t like us much. They don’t know us, they hate what they see: blood purist, rich, pompous brats.”

“You shouldn’t do anything to change that, being underestimated will always be in your favour. But- “Travers sent a harsh and not-so-subtle look towards Mulciber. “-don’t add wood to the fire.”

Flint leaned forward, stealing the focused eyes from Travers. “Also learn that what you see or hear about the other houses is usually misleading.”

“But,” Travers added. “That doesn’t mean some of them won’t be a cliche and act like a prat.”

Flint laughed. “If someone’s being a prat, go ahead and be a prat back.” She winked, a smile on her face.

“Just, for the sake of Merlin, be subtle about it.” Travers sighed. Flint looked towards the corner of the room, definitely not looking guilty.

“Rule two.” Travers pointed towards the list. “If you’re going to break the rules, don’t get caught, at least by another house.”

“And that brings us to rule three: Snitches get stitches. Or a bone-healing potion from the Madame in this case.” Flint smiled sharply. “Only applies for a fellow viper.”

Travers continued. “Rule four: no non-Slytherin in the common room. The password changes every week, don’t tell it to anyone who’s not of this house.”

“Rule five: no duelling in the common room, deal with your little squabbles in the dungeons.”

They paused looking around at the first years. The list vanished with another flick of Travers’ wrist and as soon as it did, Harry couldn’t see the unnerving glint in his eyes. It was unsettling to see the boy change personalities in mere seconds.

“That should be all, it’s nearing 11 pm anyway. Girls with me, boys with Torquil.”

First years got up from their seats, fatigue finally catching up with them. They parted and went to their rooms quietly. Travers showed them their room and left, yawning as he turned a corner.

They settled into their room. Mulciber claimed the bed he preferred as soon as he walked in and left the other boys alone after a few insults here and there. 

Zabini calmly settled on the bed closest to the door, muttering a goodnight and pulling his curtains closed. Harry realized the boy hadn’t talked much all night. 

Lestrange soundly announced that he would sacrifice himself for the good of his friends and laid on the bed next to Mulciber’s. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

Nott shrugged and claimed the bed next to him. He smiled faintly to Harry and Tom and closed his curtains.

Harry took a long, deep breath and sat on the bed closest to the window. Tom sat across from him. “Are you okay, Harry?”

Harry rubbed a hand over his face and looked at him. “Yes, it’s just- it’s been a long day.”

He sighed and tried a laugh. “Our housemates seem... fun.”

Tom chuckled. “They are something.” He glanced towards the bed farthest from them. “Are we going to do something about Mulciber?”

“Nah, not yet at least.” Harry shrugged. “Zabini manages to silence him.”

Tom nodded, amused. He was curious about the girl. But he needed to make sure of something first. “Harry?”

“Hmm?” Harry lifted his head. Tom was frowning now, the relaxed set of his shoulders long gone. “What happened on the train?”

Harry closed his eyes, a headache growing between his eyebrows. “I don’t- I’m not sure. I just felt _something rising_ inside of me.”

“Was it like the time when- “Tom whispered. Harry interrupted him. “Yes. It was.”

They sat in silence. Harry tried to ignore the sound of waves hitting a rock and the echo of voices. It was too late for this. He was too exhausted for this. “I’m going to sleep.”

Tom flinched. He seemed to regain his surroundings then whispered back to Harry. “Sure. Goodnight.”

Harry lay on the bed. He wasn’t used to the feeling of sinking into it. The blankets were too heavy; the pillow was too soft. He felt warm. He had forgot what that felt like. 

Harry closed his eyes and tried to will the headache away. He could still feel the castle’s magic around him. He grabbed on to it. 

His breathing slowed and his eyes fluttered closed as the magic surrounded him, comforted him. He fell asleep.

The castle embraced the boy. It had felt him the moment he crossed the wards. It had nudged the boy’s magic curiously and had been surprised by how _contained_ it was. But the castle could recognize one of its own. 

That night three beings settled as the memory of poison green eyes and magic so restrained yet so promising filled their mind. Their magic settled and pulled them into what sleep was for them as they all wondered about the same thing.

What would become of this boy named Harry Snow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to say that I'm changing the fics name slightly its going to be: "Scars of Silver" from now one cause of... reasons  
Btw ıf you wanted to ask anything about the fic or really just look at my compeletly unrelated to each other posts about like dozens of fandoms my tumblr is @marevolarus  
Let me know what you thought of the chapter!


	4. Partum Quidom Sicaris (Opscuritas Praepando)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the wait, turns out I don't know how to be productive. But also I wrote this in 3 days so I don't really know lol   
Anyways hopefully you will enjoy the chapter!  
-All The Love, Mare

She blinked. The hall came into focus again. Her arms were heavy when she lifted her hands to rub her headache away. She hadn’t slept, at all.

Ursula gazed across the hall absentmindedly. A few students were chattering at the Ravenclaw table. An older student was casting a simple spell to pull the sugar towards them. The ceiling was reflecting a purple light as the sun rose slowly. It was all so new, all so… colourful to her.

Funny, how much her life had changed in the past month.

_Ursula opened her eyes to the early morning sun. She squinted and lifted her hand to shield her eyes. Every muscle in her body protested against the movement._

_What was that tapping sound?_

_She got up from the bed, wincing. The walk to her window was short with how small her room was. Ursula’s trembling fingers slowly lifted the curtain covering the window. There was an owl on her windowsill._

“Morning, Fuchs.” Ursula flinched and lifted her head. Three boys from her year had joined her at the table as she had drifted. They settled around her, the one next to her immediately reaching for the pancakes on the table. Ursula didn’t remember their names.

The boy with the dark hair and cloudy grey eyes tapped his fingers on the table, catching Ursula’s attention. He lifted a brow. Ursula realised that he was waiting for an answer. His eyes narrowed slightly from the lack of response, his back straightened. Ursula watched him as he took in her slouched frame and hollowed eyes. “Slept well?”

Ursula felt rage spike in her. Her hands clenched into fists under the table. She wanted to bite back for his sarcastic and wry tone, but she didn’t want to start a fight on the first day. A drop of blood dripped from her hand. She turned away from the annoying brat.

Her eyes caught the boy across from her. He was quiet and cold when he met her gaze. Ursula caught the calculating look when he tilted his head. Black curls fell to the side with the movement, revealing a long jagged scar. It was stark white against his tanned skin, Ursula tore her gaze away.

It stung her eyes.

“If you’re quite done with the glaring contest; Riddle, can you pass me the sugar?”

Tom Riddle, Ursula was starting to remember their names, gave the sugar without sparing a glance at Lestrange. The boy was still busy glaring daggers at her.

She ignored him, too tired to care about a brat’s pride getting wounded.

“So,” Lestrange asked while adding too much sugar to his tea. “Fuchs, Right? You were really quiet yesterday.”

“It was all too... overwhelming.” She twisted her intervened fingers under the table. Lestrange seemed easier to talk to than the boy still looking her way, his feathers ruffling up more with each second.

“I sometimes forget how different it is from the muggle world.” Lestrange dumped honey into his already sweetened tea and grabbed the mug, swinging one leg to the other side of the bench. He leaned forward, curiosity obvious in his eyes. “What is the most peculiar thing you’ve seen so far?”

Ursula leaned slightly away from the boy. She considered yesterday, Lestrange’s gaze heavy on her face. Her eyes caught sight of the clouds drifting on the ceiling. “The Ceiling?”

Lestrange’s gaze didn’t leave her eyes as he hummed. He shrugged after a few tense minutes -it could have been seconds, Ursula wasn’t sure- and sipped his tea slowly. “They say that charm was put in place by the founders. Good choice. I think-“

His eyes caught something, someone over her shoulder, and he straightened. “Good morning professor!”

Ursula turned towards her right, the professor -a middle-aged man with a growing belly and a few white hairs- arriving at their side at the exact moment. “Good morning, good morning.”

His eyes shifted between them and landed on Lestrange. “Mr Lestrange, how is your mother?”

“Good, sir. As busy as always.” Lestrange replied, his voice dripping saccharine sweet.

“Good, good,” The professor muttered, still looking around, not paying any attention to the four little snakes watching him. “Did you see where Ms Zabini was? I wanted to have a chat with her as well.” Lestrange shrugged. Zabinis, alongside Nott, was nowhere to be seen. “I will let her know you were looking for her when I see her professor.”

“Make sure you do, Mr Lestrange.” The man nodded. He reached into his robes and took out a few parchments. Lestrange tried to hold on to all of them at once as the professor shoved them into his hands. “These are your schedules, be careful to not be late to class.”

The professor looked over them for one last time, nodded to himself and left: leaving three confused, one irritated child behind. Lestrange sighed and dumped the parchments on the table. A few slid away on the polished wood. He was muttering under his breath - about sucking up to blood and incompetent, irritating people- as he sat back down and grabbed his tea. Ursula, as well as Tom, was staring at him, waiting for an explanation. The boy looked at them from the top of his cup and let out a breath. “I guess you didn’t know who he was?”

They glanced at each other and nodded. Lestrange took a long sip from his, now probably cold, tea. “Professor Horace Slughorn happens to be our head of house; also our potions professor.” He took a look at one of the parchments that had landed next to his plate and added. “Which we have a class for first thing in the morning.”

****

Tom poked Lestrange again while whispering fiercely, his face gaining a new layer of red: it was starting to turn into a colour much closer to purple. Lestrange threw up his hands in a mock surrounder and snickered under his breath.

They stared at each other blankly for a few seconds. Tom was still pointing his cutting knife (only sharp enough to cut through soft plants and roots, they were eleven) threateningly as the boy across from him tried to contain his laughter. He wasn’t doing a pretty good job about it.

Lestrange smirked and whispered. All hell broke loose again. Tom smacked his arm with the knifes flat side, Lestrange crashed against the table as he tried to escape from Tom’s _very scary_ rage and both scrambled to save the tipping cauldron before their last hour decorated the floor.

Harry watched from across the room, amazed by how easily Lestrange poked all the right spots while Ursula added some powdered root of asphodel to the boiling potion. She noticed his mind straying away. “Hey, pay attention. I don’t want to cause a disaster in our first lesson.”

Harry nodded, apologetic. He still couldn’t keep himself focused as he slowly stirred the potion clockwise for ten minutes. Ursula was different than what he had thought she would be like.

She was silent yesterday, silent and annoyed this morning. Harry had been wary when Slughorn had matched them as partners for the potions class. He had quickly learned that she was a nice person when Tom wasn’t in her immediate area. She worked silently and efficiently, cutting up roots much faster than an eleven-year-old should be capable of.

Harry looked back up to find Tom jabbing the knife towards Lestrange general direction while still whispering. Harry took note in his mind: no sharp objects where Tom could reach if Lestrange was close.

But he wasn’t worried: from where he stood, it seemed like they were either going to murder each other in the next hour or they were going to get along like a house on fire. _Wasn’t his problem._

“Harry Snow, right?” Harry turned back to the girl as she tucked a strand of black hair away, frowning as she did so. Her irregular haircut made it hard to tie it back completely. “And that’s Tom Riddle?”

Harry nodded. Ursula looked at him with furrowed brows and glanced at the still bickering pair. She sighed and dumped a few more things into the cauldron, stopping Harry’s stirring with her other hand. “You need to pay more attention to the class and the potion rather than your friend.”

She dusted off her hands and let her head fall slightly towards her right shoulder. “Especially when Mulciber is trying to catch an opening to ruin ours.”

Harry glanced towards to their right: where (unsurprisingly after Ursula’s dramatics) the boy was sitting; only to catch him quickly looking away. He hadn’t noticed before. _Too busy checking up on someone,_ his mind provided. _Someone who doesn’t seem to need you as much anymore._ “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I thought he wouldn’t try anything in front of a teacher.”

“He’s that stupid.” Ursula shrugged. Harry noticed the small vial now in her hand. Where had that come from? His mind was really shaky today. “I’m going to give this to Professor Slughorn, please clean the cauldron while I do that. The sinks are at the back of the room.”

Ursula left without waiting for a response from him. Harry looked at the still hot, the steam of it was fogging his glasses, remaining potion and hesitated. It looked _heavy_. And like a disaster about to happen.

He could see Ursula coming back from the corner of his eye. It would be easier to carry it with two people, he thought. And turned towards her, missing the slight movement at his back.

Harry felt it hit his arm, he saw Ursula’s eyes going big and then- pain. Hot, searing, consuming pain.

His right side was numb and on fire at the same time. He couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t hear. He was watching from afar as his body kneeled to the floor, Ursula catching its other arm to stop him from collapsing completely. Harry caught sight of his right arm. It was drenched. The fabric was clutching onto something reddish-_was that his skin?_

He saw the professor shuffling over and leaning down with his wand drawn. A cold sensation washed through his arm, and he breathed a long deep breath. Everything went black.

****

Harry woke up a few hours later to a furious Tom and a bored Ursula. The girl calmly told him what happened as she tucked more hair back: the cauldron had fallen on him, covering his entire left arm with the potion. The Professors were doing nothing about it; it was an _accident_. Definitely not caused by a specific child that liked to brag. To anyone that would listen.

The burn was terrible, as expected. His arm was covered in bandages, they wouldn’t let him see the actual scars but he could still _feel_ them. Even with the healing spells the Madam had cast, burnt skin was hard to patch back.

His arm stayed covered with burns and periodically changed bandages for the next week. It burned whenever he wrote, used his wand or generally, just moved. He could see Mulciber smirking, standing in the middle of a group formed by Ravenclaws and Slytherins, telling the story of how he had put a mudblood in its place.

Harry ignored him, prevented Tom from doing something brash and impulsive like throwing the boy from the astronomy tower as well. Surprisingly, with Ursula’s help.

The girl was... interesting. She didn’t talk much, expect returning insults right back to Tom once in a while. Harry noticed how she always intervened her fingers under the table, how she always leaned back from the others, how she seemed annoyed or irritated all the time. And how she always... flinched.

Seeing through her was easy; but not because she wasn’t skilled in masking herself, she was good at that too good, maybe; it was just the fact that Harry did the same things too.

She was easy to get used to.

During the second week, Harry was surprised when he saw a yellow head coming straight towards him. The boy came to a halt right in front of him, stopping the trio in their tracks. “Hi, Harry.”

“Hello, Alec.” Harry looked towards the boy with yellow lined robes and wide eyes. He was jumping slightly where he stood, making it harder to focus on him. Harry felt the sharp start of a headache. “I heard what happened, really bad for your first day, sorry it took so long for me to find you. Who are your friends?”

The boy subtly rubbed at his temples, missing the way honey-coloured eyes picked up the motion and stored it away, and blinked. He had missed all the rapid questions, so he just... nodded. Ursula was the one to step forward. (She was also the one to notice how this boy's eyes took in everything in rapid succession.) “I’m Ursula Fuchs.”

“Alec Drakos,” the boy replied quickly, immediately starting a conversation with the girl as they started walking towards the great hall again. They made an interesting pair.

Alec stopped by more after that, Harry didn’t know why the Hufflepuff bothered with them but the sound of the boys talking quickly became a soothing thing in his life.

During the third week: Professor Merrythought, their Defence teacher, declared them capable of duelling. They would go two by two: one Gryffindor and one Slytherin. It was inevitable for Tom to be picked as the first snake.

He walked into the middle of the room, wand already in his hand. A girl stood across from him. She smirked around her wand between her lips as her hands tied her golden fuzzy hair back. She quickly cast a sticking charm to her skirt after asking Professor Merrythought for permission. Smart.

Tom had seen her around in the classroom. His mind hunted for her name as the professor reminded the basic rules of duelling: Hestia Thorne.

She was talented, picking up spell after spell with quick succession. But so did Tom.

They turned around and walked five steps with Merrythought’s directions. She lifted her wand and a sharp crack went off.

Tom quickly turned back, he wasn’t planning to start easy. He slashed his wand in through the air and muttered. “_Locomotor morphis_.”

Hestia dodged easily, too easily. Tom stared at where she was a second ago, just catching up as she cast back a tripping jinx. His wand was in the air, casting a _protego_ in time. Barely. The spell hit the shield inches away from his face; he flinched. The shield fell too early. He waited for the rapid charm, hex, whatever to hit him square in the chest. Only it didn’t come.

Hestia didn’t take the chance.

Did she underestimate him? Maybe he wasn’t a threat enough to knock down at the first chance. No. Tom looked at her, breathing heavily from the fast start of the duel. Hestia was focused: legs slightly apart, left foot in front of the right one and her weight on the balls of her feet. She was just too prideful.

Tom didn’t have any problem using that against her. He had to _trap_ her if he wanted to win.

Tom corrected his stance and lifted his wand. The girl visibly became tenser. Her wand hand twitched. Tom cast.

_“Incendio.”_

The fire immediately spread and cornered the girl against the far wall. Tom took the opportunity and cast another _incendio_, reducing her space even more. He could taste victory. “_Obscuro.”_

The blindfold spell landed easily. Hestia was too distracted trying to smother the fire to realise another spell coming her way. A black fabric left the tip of Tom’s wand and tied itself around her eyes, stealing her sight away. She shouted and grabbed at the fabric. Casting aguamentias at the same time to avoid the still present and spreading fire.

Tom smirked, he had won. There was no way she could dodge now. Expect maybe, he had forgot she could still cast.

Tom yelped when the hex landed. His mind supplied him with the spell as his legs moved out of his control: _Tarantallegra_. He quickly cast a finite. When he looked back up the girl had cut the blindfold somehow and was staring at him. The right side of her hair was gone alongside the fabric, laying on the ground beside her feet. “Underhanded much, Riddle?”

Tom shrugged. No one had said he couldn’t. “I didn’t know it was forbidden to use your mind before casting, Thorne.”

Hestia snarled. She was angrier about Tom’s tactic than he had thought she was. Her hair looked... wild now.

It was too late to react when she sliced the air with her wand. The water around Tom lifted suddenly, drenching his robes and closing his view of the girl. But he could still predict the incoming hex.

He dodged. This was taking too long. It was time he tried something new, something different from what they had learned in the Defence class.

“_Lapisandre_.” The simple transfiguration spell hit the stone beneath the Gryffindors feet, turning it to sand. Hestia stared, confused, as she lost her footing with the abrupt change. She didn’t fall somehow, but it gave Tom enough time to draw a new pattern in the air with his wand.

He cast a simple levitation spell, only with a wider range on the sand: if he couldn’t trap her he would blind her. The sand lifted, Tom hadn’t thought about himself not being able to see the girl too. But he cast the disarming spell anyway. He hadn’t expected to find the girl hovering close to the ceiling when his spell bounced off the wall and came back at him. He dodged his spell.

Because the girl was hovering near the _ceiling._

Hestia smirked down at him and pointed her wand towards the sand. “_Tergeo_.”

Tom watched as the sand cleared away. Had she thought about doing this from the start? She had stuck her skirt, but floating? And which spell had she cast? It couldn’t have been the levitation one that couldn’t be cast on living things. Maybe _alarte ascendre_?

He had to have a chat with this girl when this duel ended.

He threw a quick _expelliarmus_ towards her, hoping that being in the air will limit her movements. The girl just twirled and moved away, casting the same right back.

Tom’s wand flew out of his hand before he could get over the shock. In the next moment, the girl was casting on herself and landing gracefully.

Professor Merrythought came to her side, congratulating and scolding at the same time. Hestia nodded with a smile, hands clasped on her back. She caught his eye and smirked. Tom caught the sight of his wand in her hand and huffed. He wasn’t... angry. She was good, smart. And she had beat him. Fairly.

Tom turned around when a familiar hand poked his shoulder. Harry was standing at his back, his arm still in bandages. Ursula was standing next to him. He interrupted before she could say anything. “Not a word.”

Ursula shrugged, amusement clearly readable on her passive face after just a few weeks, and walked to Hestia’s side. The girl was still getting scolded by Professor Merrythought. Tom could swear he heard something about extra training in between the lectures.

“Are you okay, Tom?” Harry said from beside him. He looked unconcerned. Tom knew he wasn’t asking about physical wellness. “Yes, I’m fine.” He glanced at where the girl was talking to Ursula now, just in time to see Hestia nodding and handing his wand to the black-haired girl with a bright smile. She waved when she noticed the two boys looking at them. “She won fairly.”

Ursula came back with his wand a moment later. “Don’t lose it again, will you?”

“I didn’t lose it, Ursula.” Tom grabbed it, putting it back into his pocket tenderly. Harry shot a look to the girl right as she opened her mouth to reply, to start something. Harry wasn’t planning to get stuck between the two. “We have a free period, right?”

“Yes, I was going to go to the library?” Tom wanted to research whatever spell Throne had used. But also the girl was right there. “On second thought, you go ahead I will catch up.”

Harry saw him watching the Gryffindor with her friends and nodded. This was good, Tom was opening up more and more each day, it was good for him. “Sure, Ursula?”

Ursula nodded. “I have to get something from the dorms but I’ll meet you there.”

They went outside and turned left. “Maybe we should ask Dorion too?”

Harry thought over it: Dorion and Tom had quickly become studying partners, also dragging Coeus in as well as the Zabini’s. Andrea Carrow had strayed in at some point too. “Tom will ask Dorion if he bumps into him.”

“Okay then. I’ll be back in 15 minutes.” Ursula waved and took a different turn than Harry, going towards the dungeons. Harry grabbed his bag with his right arm and walked slowly. The hallways were empty at this hour of the day: older students having extra classes.

The bandages on his arm and shoulder strained as Harry moved, pulling at his skin and burning. The madam had said it would take a while, Harry was glad it was even curable, but it was taking longer than she had anticipated. Tom got that twitch in his hands whenever he caught sight of the bandages and it was worrying Harry more than the fact that he wasn’t healing properly.

He was lost in his thoughts, sauntering: he didn’t see the student approaching from behind.

The bag he was holding was wrenched from his hands and someone slammed Harry against the wall, left shoulder first. A whimper left his mouth involuntarily, his whole arm catching fire once again. He turned. An older student was holding his bag.

The boy smiled slowly and threw the bag far away. He was grabbing Harry and pushing his left shoulder into the wall in seconds. “I heard what Mulciber did.”

His hand grabbed the bandages and _pulled_. Harry felt tears gathering at the corner of his eye. “It’s _unrespectful_ when the first years get to have fun while we don’t. You get it, right?”

He was probably a fifth-year, maybe six. It was familiar to him as he drew his wand and pointed it towards Harry. “I just want to have a bit of fun of mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally learned my lesson of not making any promises( did I really) so I don't know when the next chapter will come out. Thank you to all of you that stuck around when I took a break again, sorry. Comments are really the biggest inspiration so please leave one if you have the time or a thing to say. Also catch me reblogging random stuff in Tumblr: @marevolarus  
-All The Love, Mare


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